


Developmental Love

by Entwife_Incognito



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Banter, F/M, Mild Relationship Angst, Prostate Massage, Romance, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwife_Incognito/pseuds/Entwife_Incognito
Summary: Lisbon finds herself with some free time at the beach enjoying life's little adventures! Is it totally OOC or are the cats just away? Definitely AU! And it ain't St. Teresa or Sir Patrick! Okay. It's a sometimes silly pornfest at the beach. If you don't like that type of material, do not read this! Disclaimer: I do not own anything about The Mentalist!Posted at FFnet on June 12, 2013 and transferred here with edits to improve the reading experience.





	1. Chapter 1

It turned out she didn't have to testify after all. The San Diego district attorney had reached a plea bargain agreement with the perp and he was going away for a long time.  


Teresa Lisbon, Special Agent for the California Bureau of Investigation, had all the time in the world on her hands. No plans. No idea what to do. Her hotel room was booked for two more nights. Maybe she'd take a couple vacation days, pay for the room out of her own pocket and enjoy the beach! She called her right hand man, Agent Cho, to be sure there wasn't anything in the pipeline that she needed to return to Sacramento for. Negative. Cool beans!  


She had to ask about her consultant just to be sure he wasn't getting himself into trouble, "Cho, what's Jane up to?" She found she was holding her breath for the answer. She'd kill Patrick Jane if he'd already created a mess that needed her to return to headquarters and clean it up!  


But Cho just said, "Haven't seen him. Guess he's up in his attic. Wait. Let me look in the parking lot." Putting his head nearly against the window, he turned first one way, then the other to get a complete look from the upstairs bullpen. "Nope. Car's not here. He's gone. Don't know where. Want me to call him?"  


"No! No, Cho. Let's leave well enough alone."  


Leaving orders to be contacted if anything came up, she phoned Gale Bertram, the boss she needed to clear her leave with, and got the go-ahead.  


Now. What to do? At the beach? Swim! Sun-bathe! Build a sand castle! Hunt pretty shells, sand dollars. And coral pieces! So nice. She had brought her swimsuit to do laps in the hotel pool, thinking that a wearisome trial would leave no time for the beach. It was a faded navy blue, worn-thin jersey one-piece with a pea-sized hole in the butt from her academy days, meant for doing laps in the hotel pool after a long day in court. Should she take the time to shop for a bikini? If there wasn't something in the hotel store, she'd make do with her old one. Maybe it would give her a nice beach-bum look instead of something that shouted tourist. Maybe keep her from getting hit on. Although a casual liaison with someone handsome and easy might not be so bad. Lisbon liked that idea. Whoever he was, he might just have to like women with holey bathing suits!  


Teresa gathered a couple towels, and the ice bucket for her shells. These she stuffed into her overnight case, whose former contents were now dumped on the bed. She debated whether to grab an emergency condom, but decided against it. There wouldn't be any of THAT going on at the beach.  


Shoving her ID, some cash and her badge in a string sack she threw it over her head and slid it down the front of her suit. Picking up the rejected condom, Teresa decided to toss it into the string sack after all. Sometimes she did get a little adventurous! Spotting the hotel's complimentary bathrobe, she jammed it in the overnight case, too. It was long and would be warm if the weather turned chilly.  


A simple coral-colored linen shift and water shoes of the same hue completed the outfit. Something in this particular shade of coral added a glow to her healthy coloring and set off her green eyes like beautiful bottle glass tossed into gems by the sea. It made her feel happy and light to wear it!  


Lisbon made a dash for the elevator, stopping at the vending machines to get a couple bottles of water. Sunscreen! She ran back to the room and fished it from the pile on the bed. All right! On her way for a peaceful day at the beach! 

The saleslady in the hotel store acted suspicious about the big bag she carried, but Lisbon raked through the rack of suits anyway and found nothing that appealed to her. On to the beach! Grinning with pleasure she popped her sunglasses on. Luckily the hotel ran a little shuttle to the beachfront nearby. This time of the day, and on a weekday, maybe it would not be crowded. She was there by 11:00.


	2. Chapter 2

Set like a jewel in the turquoise sky, the mild sun promised a bright, hot day tempered by sultry breezes. If the water was an initially piquant frisson, Teresa knew it would be easy to accommodate, especially for a girl from Chicago who used to swim in Lake Michigan. The sun's sparkle on the rolling surface beckoned her.  


The beach was crowded after all, but Lisbon was determined to enjoy it. She found a nice spot to leave her things but dutifully slathered herself with sunscreen and drank half a bottle of water. She wasn't sure she had completely covered her back but it would have to do.  


Stuffing her folded shift in the case, she grabbed the ice bucket by its handle and took off down the beach, skipping into the waves at regular intervals, stopping for shells and other beach bits that attracted her eye. Her prize was a beautiful little whelk with tiny streaks of turquoise and yellow that reminded her of the ocean sky overhead.  


Lunch was a fish taco and lemonade at a stand near the beach. Delicious! Teresa had just finished her food when she caught the eye of a handsome guy walking away from the taco stand. She returned a smile and nodded at him, clearing the way for his approach.  


"Hi there! Are these any good?" He lifted his taco to show what he was asking about.  


"Scrumptious! Try it!" Nothing about him said danger to her. He continued walking with her and soon they were at Teresa's spot. She decided to get to know him a little better. "Here, sit down and be comfortable while you eat." She indicated the second towel she had put down for when she was ready to stretch out under the sun. "My name's Teresa."  
"Mark. Thanks, I think I will."  


Teresa squinted at him surreptitiously. He really was good-looking! Dark wavy hair, thick with the tiniest amount of gray sprinkled in. Green eyes, nice build under Bermuda shorts and oversized t-shirt. They chatted a little in-between bites, just generic talk that gave nothing in particular away about either of them. Teresa noted he wore no wedding ring. Suddenly the condom tucked in her string sack seemed like a very good idea! She ran her fingers up and down the string at her neck without realizing it.  


Mark swallowed the last of his taco and washed it down with his drink. "Mmmmmm. Very good. I intend to follow any other recommendations you have! What else is good around here?"  


"I don't know myself. My schedule cleared unexpectedly and I just headed for the beach. I haven't really been in the water yet. What about you?"  


"Nope. I'm ready! Want some company?"  


A flutter of excitement tickled Teresa's belly. She liked Mark so far and things were going nicely. Maybe this would be fun! As for anything further, well, she'd see. "Sure! Come on!"  


Splashing in the waves was such a treat! Teresa loved swimming under them, holding her breath and letting them pull her to and fro. Mark was a very strong swimmer and swam to the sand bars and back several times, stopping to holler and wave when he reached a new one.  


Teresa thought Mark was really very charming, and gorgeous without a shirt. His chest was muscled and tan, with a nice dusting of hair that blew softly in the ocean breeze. Teresa wondered if it tickled. Then she wondered if Mark was ticklish. Then she wondered what it would be like to tickle him. Whoa, girl! Taking it a little too far. Wait and see.  


But her body was sending signal after signal that she found him very attractive. Being on vacation and far from home had lowered her inhibitions and released the adventurer in her. She decided she wouldn't mind if they did a little mutual and very personal exploring later tonight!  


Fancying a long bask under the sun, she headed back to the towels. The water was heaven, so relaxing and cool. She arose dripping from the waves and walked to her things as she brushed salt water from her face and squeezed it from her hair. She waved and hollered out to Mark on some sand bar in the distance and signaled that she was heading in.  


"I'll follow you!" he called back.  


"Yes you will," Teresa said, smiling to herself. She was getting a little excited now, as the buzz between her legs was telling her. Pressing herself, she covered the act by adjusting the leg of her swimsuit.  


She almost walked right into someone standing in the way. Someone with straight sleek legs and arms and a broad, smooth chest. Maybe more fun had come along! A brief fantasy of a threesome blew through her mind and her body shocked her with its instant and eager response. Adjusting her suit again, Teresa looked up to see the rest of this prize. Wringing the last of the sea from her hair, she looked right into the sea-green eyes of – Patrick Jane? Her consultant?


	3. Chapter 3

"What! What the hell, Jane? What are you doing here?"  


Jane squinted in the sunlight as he looked at her, then brought a hand up to shade his eyes. A cocky smirk had his entire face under siege.  


Teresa realized he must have seen right through the suit adjustments! How long had he been watching her?  


"For a minute, I thought you were glad to see me, Lisbon." Patrick Jane had been watching her and this "other man" since they'd entered the water. As a mentalist and a sublime, and often obnoxious, observer of behavior, he had indeed seen Teresa's suit adjustments for what they were. Sexual arousal strong enough that she felt the need to touch herself. Probably a combination of stimulation and the reduced inhibition of being on holiday and away from home.  


"Wh-, wh-" Lisbon was trying to form an intelligent question while taking in the beach Jane risen in front of her. His hair was wild with blowing golden curls. His chest, broad, bare and well formed, supported arms that looked naturally muscled, sleek, not bulked up or sinewy from working out at a gym. Fine golden hair that glinted in the sun dusted his arms and legs, matching patches around his dark nipples and the dip in the center of his chest, then picking up again below the navel as it dove into hiding. Sleekly muscled legs held trim hips, covered only to mid-thigh by faded and roomy cotton swim trunks.  


Lisbon was a little shocked to find herself thinking that if she was already laying down on the towels, she'd probably have quite a view into the ballooning legs of his swim trunks! She told herself it was natural to be curious--.  


That thought was only interrupted by her appraisal of Patrick Jane's feet. They were beautiful! Creamy white. Substantial and shapely, tucked into old flip-flops, with an anklet on the right one. Teresa really wanted to see more of those feet. She'd never seen them bare before! And ever since that wild foot fetish case, she'd been noticing feet a lot. Jane's were near perfect.  


Before she realized it, Teresa was adjusting her suit again. She made a small sound of self-reproach and pulled her hand quickly away.  


"Something wrong with your suit, Lisbon? Nothing worse than being on the beach in a bathing suit that won't lay right."  


She knew Jane was mocking her and refused to look at him. It pissed her off. A niggling resentment started to sprout like a bothersome weed, spoiling the garden of her bawdy thoughts. So what if she was thinking about men and what she wanted to do with them, or let them do with her? Anticipating the pleasurable freedom of two or three days without the Saint Teresa persona, she'd barely tossed it off and here was the one person who could make her crawl back under it in a minute!  


That mantle was a big lie, but it gave her a very successful framework for conducting her invasive professional life and work relationships. But this was the beach, for god's sake, and five hundred miles away from work. She just couldn't catch a break. Yes, Jane, announce it to the world! Teresa Lisbon is horny! Big shock! She's flesh and blood! So what? How about skedaddle and let her have a life for three days?  


"Are you in shock or something, Lisbon? You seem to have lost the power of speech. I know I surprised you, but I hope it's not that bad." Jane was having trouble reading Lisbon. Whatever was going on, it couldn't be her normal train of thought. He knew every depot on that route! But one thing for sure- she had just checked him out from top to bottom. He smiled broadly, reliving the slide of pleasure that rode his spine as she appraised him. She liked what she saw!  


Teresa looked at his face. Smirking again. He knew that she had just checked out nearly every inch of him. And gawking to boot! She snapped her mouth shut. It was embarrassing! "How long have you been standing there? What are you doing here?"  


He smirked again and looked out to where Teresa's date was making his way in from the water. "Long enough. Came down to surf. I know some great places, if you want to go."  


A rude noise issued from Lisbon's skeptical lips. "Yeah right. And you just happened to find me in this tourist part of the beach, taking a break from your board."  


Jane looked amused. "Something like that."  


"You're unbelievable. You tracked me down. You son of a bitch!"  


"Whoa, Lisbon. Language! I'll think you aren't glad to see me." Patrick wasn't smirking now, but preparing to be shunned and sent packing. He saw Lisbon's man approach and used his hand to shift her attention. "Uh. Here's your, uh, date," he said conspiratorially, teasing in a sotto voice, bringing a hand up to shield his mouth from Mark's view.  


"Oh, very dramatic, Jane. I just met him. He's not my date."  


Jane's face registered the new information and turned to the man walking up. "Ah. A casual liaison, then."  


Lisbon refused to be baited further.


	4. Chapter 4

Lisbon put on a strained smile, thinking how satisfying it would be to stomp Patrick Jane's pretty feet, then turned and smiled warmly at Mark who looked particularly delectable soaking wet. Mark peeked inquisitively through the water still streaming from his thick hair, glancing from Teresa to Jane and back. Since Jane wasn't politely moving along, Lisbon would have to introduce them.  


"Hi, Mark. Uh, this is a colleague from work, uh, Patrick Jane. Jane, this is Mark—" She realized she didn't know Mark's last name and just left it alone. She knew Jane would notice the omission.  


A smarmy smile was pasted on Jane's face as he looked at Lisbon, then he grinned at the other man and put out his hand. "Mark. Patrick Jane. Nice to meet you. Looks like fun in the water."  


"Patrick. Yeah, it sure is. The water temperature is perfect! Been lapping the sand bars." Mark shook Jane's hand. He noted the wedding ring on Jane's other hand. It put him at ease that this man probably would not be a rival for Teresa's attention.  


Teresa wanted to put some distance between Mark and her consultant. "How about a walk? Mark?"  


Mark smiled. "Sure. Sounds great."  


"Oh, it's a great day for a walk. Then I can take a dip in the water myself." Jane just smiled his smarmy smile. The men flanked Teresa as they started down the beach.  


Lisbon turned her head so that only Jane could see her try to grimace him away. He pretended confusion with a pained expression and a shrug. Jane was absolutely worse than three younger brothers put together! Lisbon reached over and pinched his leg, then surreptitiously tossed her head to indicate he should let Mark and her alone on their walk. Instead, Jane yelped and started limping as if he'd stepped on something in the sand. Mark looked at him briefly, didn't see blood and wished the other man had broken his leg.  


Jane smiled blandly and sidled away only a few inches. The stronger the hints Lisbon gave, the more easily he ignored them. He realized with surprise, and no small amount of dismay, that Lisbon absolutely wanted to pursue her chances with this Mark guy. Jane was hurt that she would be so blatant about it with him, choosing Mark instead of him. Faithless woman! Just because he hadn't declared himself yet- She should know- Patrick Jane knew the disordered and irrational state of his own thinking. But more serious was the enormity of the possible loss sailing to his horizon. And Lisbon seemed to be totally unaware. Or worse, to welcome it, no seek it out!  


Teresa looked apologetically at Mark, but she really didn't owe him explanations for anything at this point. Certainly not in front of the other man. She couldn't help but smile at thinking of Patrick Jane this way. If anyone was the "other man," it was Mark. Patrick Jane was the love of her life. But he had made himself completely unavailable to her. A little fling now and again was her own business! Too bad if it bothered Patrick. He could just step up if it bothered him that much. Together or apart, Red John would be coming for them eventually. Lisbon preferred that they face the inevitability not as isolated, pining and dried up, but as having known and loved each other in every possible way. If he chose otherwise, that was his loss.  


Mark looked at the other man again, totally surprised that Jane would want to tag along, despite Teresa's obvious and pointed hints. Time to clear things up and for this Jane character to clear out. He let Teresa walk a few paces ahead, admiring her lovely hips roll as she walked. Jane watched him ogle her, a thin burning thread of anger lacing its way through his mind as he slowed to pace Mark. He caught Mark's eye, looked at Lisbon's ass, too, then smiled knowingly at Mark with a wink, tilting his head as if to say, yeah, like to have a piece of that, huh?  


Mark was taken aback and couldn't help pointing to Jane's ring. He let Teresa get a few more paces ahead before saying quietly to Jane, "'I'd think you'd be paying attention to your wife rather than chasing tail out here at the beach." Mark's voice was neutral, but his point was clear: This is my tail and you're in the way!  


Lisbon noted the two men had lagged behind and stopped to let them catch up. What she saw when she turned to find them was a little alarming.  


Patrick Jane's face was pale, a little bead of sweat over his upper lip. He'd stopped walking and turned to Mark, saying clearly enough for them all, "Is that what we're doing here, chasing tail? My wife is dead. Murdered. I wear my ring to remember her, out of respect!"  


Mark was astounded. His jaw dropped and he looked to Teresa for a bailout. She wasn't even looking at him! Her concern was for Patrick Jane, not him. Well, he wasn't here to play a part in whatever these two had going on! Too bad, too. She looked like an energetic piece of ass. What a waste of time! Putting his hands in his pockets, he nodded at Patrick and said, "Sorry, man," then nodded, scowling, at Lisbon and walked away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know next to nothing about surfing, so I'm keeping the references to a minimum, but Jane and Lisbon needed something fun to do at the beach. Also, I know nothing about San Diego beaches, where they are, how crowded, their rules, etc. So I take license with that part of the story. Hope it's not too awkward for those in the know!

Lisbon stood with her mouth open while Jane pawed the sand with his flip-flop.  


"Oh, no, don't you give me that hurt act, Patrick Jane! You manipulated Mark by using the shock and tragedy of your dead wife? I can't believe you would use your wife's memory to run him off. What's wrong with you?"  


Patrick pawed the sand some more, then looked up but not directly at Lisbon. "He clearly didn't deserve you, Lisbon, or he would have fought for you and run me off instead."  


"Fat chance of that! You're worse than a tick! And anyway, what is this, the caveman days?  


"Admit it. He didn't meet the test."  


"Dammit, Jane! What test? He was just a nice guy at the beach on some nice time off at the beach. There's no test."  


"This guy was just chasing tail. He admitted it!"  


"Jane. You think I was looking at him for the white picket fence and two-car garage?"  


"Now I'm shocked, Lisbon. Shocked! You were on the prowl and picked up this poor guy to use him in your own little sex schemes and then toss him aside?"  


Teresa muttered under her breath. "Yeah, that's what I was going for and it would have been great, too."  


"Don't mutter, Lisbon. Say what you have to say."  


"You don't know everything about me, Jane. Don't act like you do. There's plenty you don't know about me."  


"You could have given me a clear signal to buzz off—"  


Throwing her hands up in frustration, Lisbon looked at Jane incredulously. "Crap, Jane! My signals aren't clear? Well excuse me that I don't carry around a baseball bat so I could have been more clear. Or, or I wasn't strapped where I could just warn you off with my service pistol!"  


"Always the gun, Lisbon. Really?"  


"Just shut up. I don't know what it would take to run you off."  


"That's right, Lisbon."  


Now, what did that mean? Something to get her off track? No way! But what could she say to such a stubborn, unreasonable man?  


Patrick was relieved when she let his last statement pass. It was a good sign when Lisbon carried on her griping.  


"I can't even get away from you if I take a plane and travel 500 miles! The case got pled out. I'm taking two days of vacation to get some peace and quiet on the beach. So what if I try to have a little extra fun?"  


"Ah. Fun. You wanted to get laid, Lisbon!" Jane picked up the string at her neck and raised the pouch from inside her swimsuit. "What's in here? Condom, maybe?" He noted with a triumph of delight that Lisbon's face went bright red at the same time she averted her eyes. Guilt! Jane smiled broadly and ran his fingers down the string to feel the contents of the pouch. The crinkly packet with the firm ring of a condom was easily identifiable. He held it up in front of Lisbon's face and rattled it loudly between his fingers.  


Refusing to look, Lisbon grabbed the pouch from Jane's loose hold and stuffed it back in her suit. Too bad if he didn't like it. "And you don't have one in your wallet?"  


Now it was Jane who averted his gaze. He muttered, "It's probably turned to rubber flakes by now."  


"Oh. So, with Lorelei-?"  


"Okay. She had her own condoms. Point taken, Lisbon. You win. You know I've got nothing against that card."  


"That's right!" She stomped the sand. "I asked you before. What the hell are you doing here?" Then she remembered, what? "Wait. You surf? I never heard you say that."  


Jane smiled, relieved. Ah! Distraction accomplished! "Sure. Used to all the time. In Malibu. When I was, ah, married. I don't get to sneak away very often, but yeah. It's great exercise and everybody loves the beach, right? Do you surf, Lisbon?"  


Turning her head with a snort, she said, "No. 'Course not."  


"'Course not? Lisbon, you have to try it! I can teach you." Jane smiled and raised his arms from his sides to emphasize his invitation. They could have a lot of fun playing at the beach together. He actually felt relaxed here.  


Thoughts of Lisbon in bed with another man made him wonder how she would feel underneath him, what her breasts looked like naked in the daylight, what pleased her, how she felt inside, how her mouth would feel on him, whether she was adventurous. These were thoughts Patrick Jane had entertained before, but alone and not at such an onslaught. The nearly naked actuality of Teresa Lisbon before him in her thin bathing suit sent hot blood to all the right places and drove him to do anything to be close to her and keep other men away. "What do you say, Lisbon? Surfing?"  


"What? No! Are you crazy? I'm not getting on a surfboard. I'll fall off and break something. Th- There's sharks! And jellyfish." She looked at Jane. Smirking again. "And all sorts of things that can bite y-" She let her voice trail into silence, irked that his was looking at her with that loopy grin.  


"The swells are very light and you're a beginner, we won't be going out far at all. We won't do anything gnarly. Nobody will break anything. And I won't let those bad sharks get you, Lisbon. I'll protect you."  


"Yeah, right. You're gonna defend me from sharks."  


"Hell, no. If there's sharks we won't go in. But there's not."  


"How do you know?"  


"They put out reports and stuff and there's always somebody watching. The alarm will go up if one comes near. This isn't the right time of year for them anyway."  


"Oh. The sharks have calendars, do they?"  


"C'mon, Lisbon. It'll be fun."  


Lisbon refused to look at Jane and considered her options. Jane shifted impatiently on his feet. "Lisbon-?"  


"Let me think! I'm still completely pissed at you."  


Patrick Jane took this time to survey Teresa Lisbon, his boss at CBI . . . in a way, if consultants really had bosses, which he doubted really. But he played along. Lisbon was truly fetching in her old, worn swimsuit. It was modest, but clung to her nicely. It provided thin covering, which Patrick particularly liked. He'd never seen her with so little clothing and she was stunning, petite and waif-like in her natural state. He could see erect nipples peek from underneath her hair, which was sun-dried and wind-blown into ringlets of natural curl. Her freckled face, chest and shoulders were sun-kissed and looked warm and soft. As if on cue, Lisbon turned away from him to look at the water.  


"Well?"  


"I'm still thinking." He could wait, the meddling nuisance!  


Patrick didn't mind since it gave him the opportunity to look her over from behind. Such a pretty back, her spine was nicely tucked under her flesh, not sticking out and boney. It curved enticingly down to her – whoa! That certainly was a lovely ass! Plump cheeks stood pert above her shapely legs, and her suit was already delving in between them.  


There was a tiny hole near the bottom. Briefly, Patrick thought how little time she had to pamper herself. Teresa deserved better. No telling how long it had been since she just had fun away from that grind of a job, her time a black hole, almost constantly in the company of dead bodies and her CBI co-workers. His culpability as the employee that consumed the biggest chunk of her time barely registered in his occupied mind.  


Right now he was focused on that little circle of bare flesh that shouldn't be there. He'd like to stick his finger in and feel what he could reach with it. As he watched, Lisbon absently stretched a hand back and, hooking her thumb low in the leg, pulled the material out to settle it more comfortably. For the briefest of moments Patrick had an enticing view of the bottom of both cheeks where they met before going straight to her—"  


"Jane. Is it crowded where you go?" The beach here was filling up with the afternoon crowd. Lisbon turned to face him and Jane was glad he had time to right his gaze and his thinking enough to move with the conversation.  


"No. Well, not like this. The waves are passable, the current is easy. Just for messing around, really. I mean, it's not isolated. Best not to be when you're surfing. You'll like it if you're looking for peace and quiet."  


Looking at him now, Lisbon almost forgot to speak. His eyes were the color of the sea, and almost as sparkling, and his skin had already taken on a pink hue from the sun. His full lips opened over straight white teeth and he was smiling broadly at her. Who was this relaxed and practically naked Patrick Jane, trunks barely set on a sleek round ass, who surfed and wore a beaded anklet over beat-up flip-flops? Teresa Lisbon had never met him and she realized she wanted to know him much better.  


"Well?" She'd go. He knew she would.  


"Okay. We'll go. The day shouldn't be a complete waste. Is it far?"  


"No. Get your stuff. We'll catch the bus and be there in no time."  


"Where's your board?"  


"I'm renting."  


Lisbon sighed. At least she'd get to swim, maybe even learn to surf. Maybe the day could be salvaged. Still, to be honest, she'd rather be getting laid.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, excuse me ahead of time for any surfing or beach fumbles. :-)

Lisbon frowned in spite of the interesting day Jane spread ahead of her. Waiting, huh? He'd set this all up. The big stalker. Still, Mark was gone, and Jane was usually good company, if he wasn't in a tormenting mood. And it was more than a little flattering that he wanted to spend this time with her. If it was really that slow at CBI, he could be holed up in his attic and reading his books or puzzling out Red John or whatever else he did up there.  


Having raised her younger brothers, she always knocked before entering Patrick's aerie. No telling what a man might be doing alone, especially someone so singular and alone as Patrick Jane.  


Chalking up Lorelei as an aberration, and a dead one at that, Lisbon allowed that it couldn't be easy for Jane, eschewing relationships with women for ten years. He was a man, in the prime of life. She was sure the equipment worked. He must do something about it. She did. Zheesh! What was she thinking? He wasn't up there doing that! Would he? Well, of course he would, probably every day like any other man. Maybe not up there, but somewhere. What about the times he kept his door locked? Red John couldn't take up ALL that time.  


These were Lisbon's thoughts as she gathered her things and walked quietly to the bus stop with Jane. They continued on the ride to the beach, even though she tried to distract herself any number of times. Jane seemed lost in thought as well. She was satisfied to ride quietly for the time being.  


Patrick's thoughts ran along similar lines. What WAS he doing here? It was no trouble at all to suss out where Lisbon would stay in town, amateur snooping really. He had arranged a ticket for himself immediately, trusting to luck on finding a place to stay once there. If he had to sleep on the beach, it would be a treat!  


Secretive and controlling. Yes, he still was exactly as Sean Barlow had labeled him and as he had admitted to Lisbon. Lisbon was going so far away from him, even if it was for only a few days. He wouldn't be able to run by her apartment when he couldn't sleep at night, or just because he wanted to, and check for lights in the windows or her car in the parking lot. And then he had arrived at the real question. What if Teresa Lisbon met someone? He determined to go, and to "run into" her there. It didn't matter how it looked. Lisbon would eventually accept it as she accepted his other eccentricities.  


Surely Teresa knew by now that he was saving himself for her, for after Red John was gone? Surely she knew he loved her even though he couldn't say it. Patrick knew she loved him. But then, why was she catting around at the beach? He shouldn't begrudge her at least physical pleasure. He didn't really. Patrick just wanted to be the one to share such pleasures with her. He already had in dreams and fantasies, emptying years of frustration and desire into the shower and onto his sheets, shaping his hands to make them her core, pretending her cries joined his in release.  


Was he wrong to make her wait? To make himself wait? He tried to imagine her want. It was bound to be as strong as his own. He knew what he did to work it off. Did she do the same, as Sean Barlow had taunted her? A vision filled his mind of Teresa in ecstasy with her hand between her legs, lying on her bed thinking of him. He felt cruel not to fill her need, her desire hollow and aching, especially knowing only she could fill what he needed.  


Yes. He was wrong. Because he had not declared himself. It had felt wrong to snare Teresa with proclamations of love and then say, but not yet. Or to start a sexual relationship with her, if she would even have him, and not offer her the love in his heart as well. It was not fair to make her wait when she could move on to life and love without him. That's why he was here, running into Teresa Lisbon. To be sure she didn't move on without him.  


Well, unless he was a worthless dog, the only thing to do was declare himself and move on with her, if she was willing. Red John was a threat to them, no matter what! Red John surely knew the closeness between them. He just wanted to deny them, no Patrick, the pleasure of life-giving real love.  


Before they knew it they were getting off the bus for a brief walk to a lovely stretch of beach with a large smattering of people and their surfboards lazing around. It seemed very nice. They set her things down near a grove of brushy trees that offered some seclusion above the beach.  


Patrick looked at Teresa's beautiful freckles. "You have very fair skin, Lisbon. Better get some sunscreen on."  


Lisbon began to reapply. It was a boring task and always seemed to take forever, but she would burn terribly otherwise. She looked at the waves. They seemed tame enough, not huge. The ocean joined the sky at the horizon, a panorama of turquoise, shifting into green and white on the approaching waves and laced with light clouds above. It could be overwhelming to look at if it wasn't so beautiful. The sun was still high even though it was mid-afternoon.  


"Need some help?"  


Lisbon jumped a little when he spoke. Jane was squinting at her in the sunlight, looking so gorgeous. His trunks were low on his hips and when he turned sideways, the line of his hip and thigh as it flowed from his buttock arrested her attention.  


"No! I'm fine, Jane. I can put sunscreen on myself, just like you. You need some?" She held it out to him.  


"Yeah, thanks." He slathered it on his exposed places and looked her over. You have a red spot in the middle of your back, Lisbon. Are you sure you got the sunscreen there?"  


"Well, no, probably not. You can get that, thanks. You have the same on you."  


They traded this small but enjoyable mutual ministration. It was nice to have someone to do for you.  


Patrick went to get a board from the shack nearby. He ran by her, waving, and heading into the waves. "Come on! Surf's up."  


Teresa giggled and though still very nervous, she followed him into the water. She could never stay mad at Jane for long. Even if he was secretive and controlling. And possessive! She smiled a little at that thought. She would let herself totally have fun with Jane at the beach! Since he ran Mark off, Jane had better make up for it! These were her vacation days and she would not pretend she was still at the office with her consultant. The salt air and the relaxation stretching ahead released a playful Lisbon to frolic as she had not done in years. As much as he loved to tease her, she knew Jane would protect her by being discreet around the rest of the CBI team.  


"Show me how it's done, Jane. I want to see you surfing, first."  


Patrick agreed, a loopy grin and a far-away look in his eyes that Lisbon didn't fully understand, but knew it had something to do with his pleasure in surfing. She watched as he paddled out a distance and spent some time looking for the waves he wanted to ride.  


Lisbon felt something nameless and profound. Jane looked beautiful, graceful and somehow at peace, something Lisbon had never seen in the man she knew. Balancing on a wave that shone like a low tube of florescent green light, he bowed low, nearly kissing the sea. His bottom was high in the air, his arms spread wide and low over the water at an incredible span, fingers tilting up and down like the tips of eagles' wings in the wind, delicately stabilizing the whole flight. Lisbon wondered when – or even, if – she'd ever seen anything so lovely in a man. She'd never really paid attention to surfing at all.  


Patrick floated up to her. "How about it? Look like fun?'  


"Patrick! That was wonderful! You looked great out there!"  


He looked at her, quizzically, pleased to hear his first name fall from her lips. "Yeah?"  


"I knew surfing takes a lot of skill. But I didn't know it was so pretty. Or that a man could look so graceful!" Lisbon stopped herself. Could she sound more like a giddy fangirl?  


Patrick Jane actually blushed. "Thank you, Lisbon. It's just balance."  


"Well, I'm sure I'm not going to look like that."  


"Not at first. But you look great at everything you do, Lisbon."  


Lisbon smiled with pleasure, but could think of no response. She just nodded to acknowledge the compliment that warmed her like toast.  


Compared to Jane's sea eagle flight, surfing was very frightening for Teresa at first. She never really relaxed into the activity although it was a lot of fun splashing around. Patrick seemed to expect her shrieks and desperate clinging.  


Once or twice she thought he probably enjoyed it, especially when she tried to find a grip on the board, her legs splayed wide and thrashing, her butt in the air when she tried to stand, her suit rising uncontrollably to expose nearly her entire ass as she desperately tried to tug it down. One time Patrick tried to help pull the suit down for her.  


"Hey! I'll do that!" she had yelled, batting his hands away. She found it was just too hard to do everything at once and had to let her suit do what it would a few times.  


Patrick would stand behind her on the board, helping her to balance. She guessed that on occasion their maneuvers required him to cradle her hips and legs with his own, because that's what he did sometimes. She could swear he poked her with a stiffie at least twice! Balancing on the board required too much concentration to figure out how to back into him for a better feel.  


Everything combined to fill her nether regions with a pleasant buzzing sensation, something that wanted to be relieved, something she had expected Mark would take care of. The thought distracted her and she almost tumbled off the board. She needed to get a grip! Maybe later. She was prepared for that, too. Maybe tonight when she was alone, before a nice soak in the tub.  


"What are you smiling at, Lisbon?" They were walking back to rest on the beach for a while.  


"I feel good, Patrick! Let me, huh?" She laughed and winked at him to let him know she was playing. He nodded, smiling.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene is a little unconventional. Okay. Puerile. Just keep in mind this is "developmental" love, pretty childish at first, testing the limits. I had fun with it. I hope you do, too.

While Teresa squeezed out her hair and settled other things about her person, she watched Patrick do the same.  


He shook the water out of his curls and let them be. He was still dripping wet, his suit pasted to his form as if someone had vacuumed the air out of every space. Now it was the lines leading to his groin that got her attention. His bare skin made it very easy to imagine what those lines narrowed and lowered to. His trunks were riding so low in front that a golden line of hair fuzzed over the waistband. A short tug would no doubt completely expose him. She could see a little of the size of what held up his trunks and noted with a satisfied smile that he had just come out of the cold water. It was almost too tantalizing to leave untouched. But she did.  


For his part, Patrick noticed the same pasting of Lisbon's suit to her breasts and taut nipples. Soft lines led down her torso and framed the little indentation of her navel. But lower. Lower is what enticed him now. Her suit was stuck to her nether lips, parting them slightly to fully outline each one. The creases of her legs were a clean, smooth line. She had probably shaved there just for her suit.  


He feasted on the view from behind when Teresa turned, already aroused and wondering how to approach her. Or how to stay away! When it came down to it, he knew how to do neither.  


Teresa's suit had ridden high over her bottom again, the creamy globes shimmering as she moved. His internal warnings pushed far below the rush of blood in his ears and the pounding of his heart, Patrick impulsively reached over and slipped his hand completely through the leg holes and pulled, chuckling delightedly as she squealed and tried to dance her way loose from the wedgie. My god, she was beautiful! Her thighs were sleek as a seal's, curving into the swell of her buttocks, flexing as she struggled to get loose from his grip.  


"Ah! Patrick! Let go, you idiot! What the fuck?" Her Chicago was coming out.  


He finally let go of the suit to face his furious companion, mirth shaking him like a rag doll.  


"Dammit, Jane! What's wrong with you?"  


"I couldn't help it, Lisbon. Your butt was asking for it!" Patrick was laughing and holding himself in front.  


"What are you, twelve? Jane, I'm your boss!"  


"So you say."  


Was he giggling? She didn't know for sure. She didn't remember him ever giggling before. It was infectious. Teresa never really knew what led to her next act. It was pure impulse, fueled by Patrick Jane's own outrageous behavior, which begged retaliation, and her already lowered inhibitions. Teresa was more than a little aroused and excited. It was easy to wave herself in.  


"Oh. You don't want me to be your boss, then? Okay, take this!" She reached quickly in an unguarded moment and jerked Patrick's suit at the front seam, slipping it easily off of him. He popped out semi-erect, then immediately stood straight up as the sensuality of his exposure to her hit Patrick in a mad rush of lust. He grabbed the shaft in an attempt to hide himself while he tried to find his waistband to yank his trunks to cover.  


Lisbon was nearly doubled over laughing but couldn't stop looking at what she'd wrought. "Pull 'em up! Pull 'em up!" she whispered hoarsely, in hysterics. Breathlessness stole the sound of her laughter as her shoulders shook and tears streamed from her eyes, riveted by the sight of Patrick Jane holding something manly as the eye of its plump head stared at her. Finally, Patrick managed to cover up. But not before Lisbon could stop some wet from her laughter-squeezed bladder.  


"Oh my god! Oh my god!" she cried helplessly as two thin streams trickled the inside of her thighs. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" But she wasn't that sorry at all, instead laughing hilariously, helpless to do anything about it. Heat from her body and the sunny day evaporated the moisture before it reached her knees.  


Patrick laughed so hard, tears were rolling down his face and he fell backwards, landing with a thump on his butt. He was holding himself again. "Don't! Don't! You're gonna make ME do it! Stop! Please, stop!" He waved her off with his free hand.  


Teresa managed to get to her bag to fish out the crumpled shift to cover herself.  


"Wait! Wait! Lisbon, don't put that on yet!" Patrick got up and came over to her, taking the shift from her hand and setting it aside. He was laughing and gulping air.  


"What? What is it?" she said, totally confused and still barely able to talk.  


"This!" Patrick reached through the front legs of her suit this time, hauling it up stiffly to give her a front wedgie.  


"Patrick! What are you doing? Stop it!" But Teresa just broke into another fit of helpless giggling.  


Patrick held on, looking at Teresa's exposed labia and the small swath of fabric that accented the placement of her sex, a swollen little nub now a prominent feature of the wedgie. "Oh my goodness, there's sand! Let me brush that off for you." He giggled some more as he ran the flat of his fingers over her briskly, pretending to gently sweep sand from her bare skin. Her fat little lips felt like soft, ripe peaches, firm but yielding.  


Following a sharp intake of breath, Patrick just stared at the beauty of this part of Teresa. He wanted her desperately. He let go of her suit, expecting to be thoroughly chastised for crossing the most rigid of their boundaries by actually touching her in a sexual manner. He recovered when he remembered she had done almost the same to him. Well, without actually touching him. He looked carefully at Teresa to see her reaction. It was not the wrath he expected.  


Teresa looked at him with eyes so deep and sultry he was instantly captivated. An almost imperceptible smile curled into her lips as she lowered her head. "Well. You've messed up the front of my suit." She was breathing heavily. "Fix it."  


Her suit was still lodged loosely in the cleft. Patrick tugged it up again, gently this time, to see the tight knot resurface against the fabric. He smiled and looked at Lisbon. "Is that a pebble in your bathing suit, or are you glad to see me?" he quipped.  


"Fix it, Patrick." She turned her eyes from the major tenting at the front of his suit to look at him again.  


Patrick tucked a finger under the crotch of her suit, wiggling it to pull the fabric away from Lisbon's skin, nudging with his knuckle as he listened to her breathing speed up. "There's so much sand in here." He rolled his other fingers in, pulled the suit down and into place, but brushed the backs of his fingers up and down against her now hidden sex, dislodging some of the sand. She tried to push herself into his hand, but he tenderly freed it and settled the outside of her suit.  


"There. It's fixed. I don't want to rub sand into you. It will abrade your skin. You should go into the water and wash it out of there."


	8. Chapter 8

The waves had calmed to rocking swells and the sun lowered over the water, pouring quicksilver over the undulating rose red sea. It bled into the sand at its edge like watercolor, quickly fading away and returning as the water surged, sunk into the sand and receded.  


Patrick felt some alarm that things were spiraling out of control between Teresa and him. They were on the verge of consummating a relationship they had not even discussed with each other. He was committed to the next seal, but he could not allow it to open under false or ambiguous circumstances.  


Excruciating readiness teetered against his crumbling control as the bull in his blood urged Patrick to throw away caution, press her and make her his. He knew she wanted him. All he needed to do was let her feel how far his feverish body was ready to take it. This wasn't even seduction. This was raw lust that, with any two other people, would just be a night of carnal pleasure. Relished. Remembered. But possibly signifying nothing. It could never be so between Teresa and him.  


Teresa touched his arm. "Come out in the water with me. I don't want to be out there alone."  


"First I have to tell you something, Teresa. We need to talk."  


A slight chill went down Teresa's spine. She just wanted to be happy for a couple days, nothing more. She wouldn't ask more. But even as she thought it, she knew it was a lie. She began to shiver as her heart sank.  


"Teresa?" Patrick knew it was too warm for her to be shivering. He put an arm on her shoulder, surprised when at his touch she moved in closer and lay her head against his chest instead of pulling away. His other arm enfolded her. "What is it?"  


Teresa was silent at first. "I know it's silly, but I'm afraid." The tremor in her voice seemed amplified as her whole body trembled in his arms. Wrapping her arms at his waist, she held tight. "It seems like we've danced around this forever. I want us to face whatever is between us. I don't want you to push me away . . . let second thoughts make you pretend there's . . . nothing . . ."  


Teresa's pain and fear were raw, begging him to calm them. Sadness swept him to realize his responsibility in it. "No. That's over. That's what I wanted to say. Hiding what we really feel is getting in the way more than the feelings themselves. I think it actually makes us more vulnerable."  


Teresa was crying now, her sniffles noisy under his chin. Her voice wavered as she tried to talk through the sobs that kept escaping her chest. "Everybody knows anyway. Lorelei. Barlow. Even Red John. But we pretend there's nothing. It's dangerous for us to live a lie! Sometimes even I believe it . . . makes me feel crazy!"  


"No. Don't believe it. You are the brightest thing in my life. Sometimes I think you ARE my life. I love you, Teresa. I just try to hold on, waiting for the day I can openly express it. It seems to be today."  


"I love you, too." The sobbing took over now. "I do think of you every night in my bed. I do!"  


"It's the same for me."  


"What are we going to do, Patrick?"  


"I think anything but what we're doing right now will destroy us."  


"I want to enjoy you, Patrick. To be free of a dark cloud, even if it's just for a little while. I want these few days. I want marriage and babies some day and to be free to love you every night or whenever we want. I just want you. If I'm going into a life or death battle, I want to face it with your love at my back. I don't want to face death never having known your love."  


"Yes. But it's between us. We still have to be strong enough to disguise it to our regular world, as best we can."  


Patrick bent down and captured Teresa's lips, so luscious and warm, kissing her for the first time. She followed his lead at first, then pressed her tongue against the line of his mouth and it thrilled him to open his lips and take her into himself. This was his tiny piece of heaven, his anchor, the only life he wanted.  


When they broke the kiss, he said, "Now, let's get that sand out of your bathing suit. It has to be very uncomfortable, especially with—well, everything." They both laughed.  


Only a few people were still on the beach, clustered on the far side, bringing out various lights and lanterns, a comforting constellation against the sand.  


Patrick picked up the surfboard and they ran into the water. They splashed around, refreshing themselves, dipping and emerging from the darkening water as the moon peeked low on the horizon, ready to overtake the setting sun, two rippling paths on the calming water, one ruddy, the other pale and cool. The view was breathtaking.  


When they were about waist deep, Patrick told her, "Get what sand you can out of your suit and then hop up on the board and I'll help you with the rest, Teresa." He smiled wickedly and wiggled his eyebrows at her lasciviously.  


"What are you planning, Patrick? It wouldn't take much to overwhelm me right now, when what I really want is love and peace."  


"It will be something you'll like. Something you'll recognize. Only better."  


"At your word, then."  


Patrick watched as Teresa leaned over and flushed out her suit. He wished for a moment they were in a shower and he could see everything she was doing. Then he remembered, as his heart soared, that this was only the beginning of what he and Teresa could be to each other.  


"That's probably about as good as I can do here. Okay. What now?"  


"Hop up on the board. That's it. Lie on your back and just enjoy the float."  
He put his hand on her stomach to anchor and steady the board. Then, pulling her close, bent over to kiss Teresa. She put her hand on his neck and toyed with the curls there, fluffing them and feeling them wrap her fingers. He broke the kiss to resume under her ear and breathe her name and his love. "Was I like this?" He captured the fleshy ear lobe.  


"Huuuuuuh?"  


Kissing her neck and moving down her chest to mouth her nipples through the thin jersey that covered them, he asked again, "Am I like this when you think of me in your bed, Teresa?"  


Her groan was a low vibration, pulse pounding under Patrick's mouth when he moved back to her neck. He cupped and kneaded her breasts, loving each one in its turn. He returned to her mouth, thrusting in his tongue and taking command of a kiss that nearly unraveled Teresa. Then he was at her ear again, "Was it like this? Tell me!"  


"Nooooooo."  


"No?"  


"This is better, Patrick, so much better."  


The happiness that blossomed in his heart was full bloom in the wide smile that shone from his face, eyes glistening as he looked at the powerful woman beneath his hands, yielding her body to him. He slid a hand underneath her suit, petting the fluffy mound above the parting of her legs. "Let's get that sand out of there now."  


Pulling her suit to the side, he followed the elastic underneath and slipped the fabric to the side there, too, anchoring it under her hips. She was fully exposed to him now and he took some time to look at her and love the sight of this part of her body. Then he started fanning water over her. "Legs further apart. Further. Hang them off the board, if that's comfortable. That's nice."  


"Can you get it?" She meant the sand. But she wanted—she wanted—something more. Her sex was completely open to him, hips thrust forward, the weight of her feet hanging in the water. The boldness, the want, felt incredibly erotic.  


"Oh. yes."  


Patrick's fingers gently probed for errant grains of sand in her folds. He loved the fatness of her labia, swelling now in passion as he handled her. Teresa's soft sighs rode his spine as he spread her gently to get the water in there, using his fingers to softly brush everything clean.  


Teresa loved being exposed to him this way. His touch was madness, so soft but on every part of her entire sex. She could feel a nexus of sensation practically standing up and begging for his attention.  


He was flushing lower now, driving sand from the lowest part of her bottom.  


"There. I think we got it all." Her clit was erect, lifting under its hood. He touched the tip, pushing softly, forcing it into tiny circles.  


Teresa reacted immediately, lifting her hips and moaning his name. "Patrick, your mouth was on me." A warm gleam in his eye told her that he knew immediately she meant her fantasies.  


"Ahhhh. That's where I want my mouth."  


Kissing her there was as sweet as kissing her mouth, soft and warm and deep. Lying flat on the surfboard pushed Teresa's hips forward and her parted legs forced the aroused flesh to a point. Patrick popped it in and out of his suckling lips and tongue. Sensation drove Teresa as her moans resolved to low rhythmic cries of pleasure. She tasted of clean seawater and though it was subdued from all the washing, Patrick could pick up the soft scent of her musk, his Teresa! When she broke, it was as liquid as the sea, as if she followed the rhythm of the waves, blending her soft cries with them as they sizzled on the sand.  


Patrick took Teresa's hand and drew her off the surfboard, holding out his arms. Bending, he whispered, "Jump up." Teresa leapt into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging as he rocked her in an enveloping bear hug, still unable to get close enough. She felt protected and claimed as she listened to Patrick declare his love again, cherishing her. She kissed the mouth that said the words, over and over.


	9. Chapter 9

"It's getting dark. Maybe we'd better go." Teresa looked toward the dusky beach, a few outlines of people visible in the failing light.  


"We can stay if you want. I brought some lightsticks. We can crack a couple. We can't build a fire here, but they'll make a nice glow." Teresa nodded at him. When they left the water, Patrick ran ahead to dig the sticks from his small tote. Their glow would be soft and almost romantic.  


When she arrived, Teresa shook the towels, resettling them on the sand, and brought out the remaining bottle of water. Snuggling into the fluffy hotel bathrobe, she removed her bathing suit underneath its cover. The soft toweling coddled her sun-kissed shoulders and sea-washed body, nuzzling the naked skin.  


His tender interlude with Teresa in the water . . . Patrick could not stop reliving it. Her taste was still in his mouth, the soft places and the firm places still touching his lips and tongue, her scent still in his nostrils. This was how his life should be! He watched Teresa undress under her bathrobe and wrap herself with the tie. He wanted to snuggle her in his lap, hold her inside that softness while he whispered his love, touched her hair, pulled the fabric aside to kiss her everywhere while she rested safe in her white terry nest. Resuming his task without losing his thoughts, Patrick cracked the lightsticks.  


Toes curling in the warm sand, she watched his thoughts flutter across his face in the bright fluorescent glow. They were new to her. All of them. But they felt familiar . . . in sync with her own.  


Then Patrick brought out some fruit and grain bars. These they devoured ravenously, sharing the water. Donning a long-sleeved t-shirt with frayed collar and cuffs, Patrick looked comfortable and very appealing. They both sat on towels in the glow of lightsticks on the ground, handling the sand, digging their toes in and staring at the water for a long time. It was quite dark now and the stars filled the navy sky while the thin moon wavered a mile long on the water. There were still a few people on the beach, clustering quite a distance away. That and the night virtually nested Patrick and Teresa in their secluded spot.  


Finally, Patrick turned to her. "I really want a night swim. Do you mind if I skinny dip? You can turn your head if you want, but I don't want to get my suit wet again."  


"Turn my head? No. I don't want to do that." Teresa sounded more confident than the flutters that took wing from her core at the thought.  


"Okay. I'm going to be hard, you know. But I don't want our first time to be here. The water should cool me down a little bit. Can you wait?"  


"Yes. But tonight. At the hotel . . ." Her words should have felt bold, embarrassing. But they didn't.  


"Not a minute longer. I promise."  


Teresa giggled. Initially, a bit overwhelmed by the signals her body was sending, she did turn her head, listening to the sounds he made undressing. But she had to look. And her timing was perfect! He was just bending over to take his suit from around his feet and set it aside with his shoes. His bottom was only a couple feet from her face. As Patrick stood, his buttocks resolved into two perfectly round pale globes. It was such a beautiful sight that Lisbon gasped.  


Patrick turned to look over his shoulder at that moment, Lisbon already in the act of dipping her head lower to see what she could of what was between his legs  


"If you're that curious, just look."  


"It feels sneaky. I like it."  


"You like to be a bad girl, do you?" He smiled broadly.  


She quickly looked at the ground, pretending to notice how the sand felt as she dug in her fingers. "No! I mean, not that much, Patrick. Well, yeah, sometimes." Teresa bravely said what was on her mind. "I was just enjoying the sight of you, Patrick. You have a beautiful bottom, that's all. And I like the lines of a man underneath."  


"Yeah? Hmmmmm. Well, you have a very lovely fanny, Teresa."  


Narrowing her eyes and suspecting a tease, Teresa sputtered a little. "Wh- When did you- ?"  


"Your suit. Everyone's suit rides up when they're trying to surf, especially learning. It's probably the best thing about teaching someone." He grinned. "A woman, I mean. And I hate to remind you of the wedgie." He winked.  


She grinned. "I don't ever want to forget that, Patrick, front and back."  


"Yeh. Weren't we just kids?" Patrick's smile was deep and happy as he turned towards her now.  


He was definitely hard, proudly waving high in the night air above testicles that rolled deliciously with his movements. Teresa felt a rush of moisture between her legs and a hollow desire almost desolate in its intensity. Patrick was a sumptuous feast of a man, with a lithe sleek shape from head to foot. Shapely white toes wiggled in the sand at the ends of his handsome feet. Teresa leaned over to brush a few grains of it from the tops of them.  


"Thanks," he said quietly. The look on his face was inquisitive and interested, and when Teresa looked up, he caught the heat in her eyes.  


"I want to touch you, Patrick. I want to handle you until you come as hard as I did out in the water just now."  


Patrick felt his body burst into brushfire. His invitation issued low and slightly hoarse, "I'm right here, Teresa. I can't imagine anything better than feeling your hands on me, making me come."  


She reached out then, fondling everything male about him for the first time. He filled her hands, sea-washed silk over a living granite that throbbed warm under her touch. She pet his length, so erect it nearly lay against his belly, and watched it point towards her, pulsing with Patrick's heartbeat. He sighed, a wavering sound that spoke of longing as well as joy and desire.  


"I love you, Patrick, and I love what you bring to me here." Her hand slid along the underside now, more fleshy. She squeezed him affectionately, then rose to her knees, toes digging into the still warm sand. Then she opened her robe to lay him between her breasts, pressing them together against him. "Can I see you move, Patrick?"  


Patrick was already panting, so close to the cliff's edge. His first view of Teresa's creamy breasts was to see them in her hands, wrapping him. Slowly, he moved, long gentle strokes that transferred his moisture to her skin to make a slick channel. He heard Teresa encouraging him, felt her moving with him as his hips rolled rhythmically against her, the soft terry of the robe caressing his thighs. She cupped the rounds of his ass to pull him closer as he leaned over, clinging to her shoulders, gasping when she squeezed him between her breasts again. Patrick shook as his orgasm issued in a great wet heat, splashing Teresa's chin and chest as he gasped for air. Then he kneeled in the sand and kissed her until they were calm enough to move.  


"Come to the water. I'll meet you there." He turned and ran down to the sea.  


Teresa took a few moments to recover from what had just happened. She longed to express her love to this wonderful man in any way he would accept and to receive the same from him, whatever its form. Two nights were all they had, at least for now, and she knew they would not waste a minute!  


Teresa didn't wait for long and soon she was naked, too, as she threw her robe on the towels. A nude bath in the sea was just the thing! This was a first for her. Nobody she knew went skinny dipping in Lake Michigan!  


She felt safe in the darkness and figured the distance also gave cover from the little group on the far side of the beach as she spotted Patrick splashing around about waist deep. When he noticed her, he raised an arm to wave her in, shouting, "I was hoping you'd come into the water! You look beautiful!"  


Stopping short of the wave's frothy edge, Teresa frowned and decided she was being teased. "You can't see anything, you liar!"  


"I have an imagination, don't I?"  


Reassured, Teresa ran into the water, stopping near him.  


"You know there is moonlight, don't you?" Patrick eyed her under its pale chiaroscuro beams.  


Teresa assessed what she could see of Patrick in the moonlight and realized that few important assets would be hidden from each other. But the light from the slivered moon was too faint for those in the distance to discern anything.  


She made a shallow dive into the water, slipping under it like an otter, and was delighted with the sensation on her naked skin. How could water feel so different just because she didn't wear a bathing suit? But it did, cool silk draping her body and wrapping every curve and angle, following her every move. So sensuous!  


Surfacing near Patrick, she stood, flinging her drenched tresses from her face. He groaned aloud, watching seawater sheet from her breasts. They were sizable and perfectly proportioned to her petite body, full and round as apples, tipped by tight little nipples chilling in the water and night air. He wanted to wrap his hands around them and feel them in his mouth! Her hips flared slightly just before they plunged below the waterline. Was there anything so beautiful as Teresa rising from the sea at night?  


A little rogue wave had enough force to topple her face-first into the water. Patrick watched as she went over, kicking her legs as she tried to right herself, her fanny stuck in the air, exposed when the wave receded, highlighted by the glow in the night. He wanted a handful of those luscious orbs. Instead he grasped her waist until she was steady on her feet, spluttering a little under her curtain of wet hair.  


Teresa saw him looking at her, eyes hot with desire, and turned away, flipping her wet hair from her face and sending streams of water flying into his face.  


"You just look so beautiful, Teresa."  


"You said you didn't want to take me here. Stop looking at me so much or I'll come over there and take you!" She enjoyed teasing him for once.  


"Oh? How much can I look at you then?"  


The current tugged toward the sea, strong enough to expose Patrick's fully erect state to Teresa's curious eyes. She giggled.  


Patrick arched an eyebrow at her.  


"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be silly. You're ready again? How long have you been like that?" she queried, nodding her head towards his groin, now hidden by the sea again.  


He laughed. "Oh, pretty much since I saw the moonlight painting you. It's very pleasant, actually."  


Teresa looked askance at this. She'd only heard guys whine and complain about how painful it was, some kind of sympathy play to get a woman on her back. Never worked with her at all. She wanted to touch Patrick down there, feel everything about him again, taste him, climb onto him and— No, he wanted to wait. She stopped her train of thought, but Patrick had already caught it.  


"You know, Lisbon, I think you may be a very highly sexed woman."  


"You don't know the half of it, Patrick."  


Letting out a low whistle of appreciation, he splashed his hands in the water and changed the subject. "Did I get all the sand out?"  


"Yes, I'm very comfortable. And I love the tools you use."  


"Well, I have an excellent probe we should really try out soon."  


Teresa was quiet a moment and then chuckled softly. "You know, this has been some first date, Patrick."  


"What do you mean, Lisbon? It was the perfect first date. I laughed. I cried. I held myself so I wouldn't pee my pants. You--"  


Lisbon laughed out loud and Patrick joined her. It felt so good.  


Before their banter carried them to the next point of no return, Teresa said, "Want to catch the bus back to the hotel? We can have a hot shower and order room service and sleep in a big cushy bed."  


"Mmmmmm. Sounds wonderful. Let's go."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Reader: If you sent me a howler about Chapter 7, or just silently hated it, you probably will not like this chapter either. It wanders down a different unconventional path. Fair warning!

They ordered light but satisfying fare from room service. While they were waiting, Lisbon cleared the bed of everything she'd dumped there. She was not paying any particular attention to the contents until she got to the box of condoms and her little jewel-red vibrator. It didn't matter that she'd barely gasped when she saw them because Patrick was keeping an inventory of what she had there anyway.  


"What's that, Lisbon?"  


Teresa weighed which to confess to first. She held up the vibrator. "Oh, this? It's a sex toy, Patrick, as I'm sure you know. It's for me, but you can use it if you want." She smiled coyly.  


"Nice sleight of hand, Lisbon. Makes a titillating fantasy for me, I must say! But I'm more interested in that box. What's that?"  


"You know very well what they are."  


"A whole box. Well. Do you have some sort of condition I should know about or were you planning to use those on poor Mark?"  


"No. No plan."  


"Who, then?"  


"Nobody."  


"I'll take that to mean anybody. Hence, a box full. My, my. Lisbon, I must say I'm surprised at you. Cat's away, blah blah blah." A sly smile spread across his face. "Although it does herald busy and satisfying times ahead for me!"  


"Hey! Better watch where you're going with this, Jane! My equipment works just as good as yours. I need a tune up once in awhile, too."  


"A tune-up. That's what you call it, Lisbon?" He made a goofy voice and wagged his head back and forth, saying, "Hi, Mark. I need a tune-up."  


Lisbon walked over to the armchair where he sat and snuggled herself into his lap, pulling his arms around her. She understood his jealousy and possessiveness. She felt the same about him. But if he kept going, she would bring up Lorelei and that would mangle everything. And for no good reason. "Patrick. Love of my life-"  


He actually blushed and smiled like a Cheshire cat, his eyes mere slits of pleasure.  


"It was a close call. I admit it. I would have slept with Mark . . . was looking forward to it, actually."  


Patrick's chest rumbled his unease.  


"For purely physical reasons. But it's true. You never know where things can lead. You were my knight in shining armor today. You saved me. Not from Mark, but from being with someone who wasn't you and maybe dreaming that it was. And now I have my dream come true. How great is that?"  


"Pretty great?'  


"You bet it is. You are sweet, wonderful and maddening. And you did the right thing to come after me."  


"Nice save." Patrick sighed, "Teresa, you say such sweet things to me."  


"You deserve them."  


Patrick nibbled her neck and then nipped her earlobe before taking it completely into his mouth. Her neck arched in a wonderful shiver.  


"Mmmmm. You're poking me. I want to see what you've got there . . . " Teresa pulled the waistband low to Patrick's groin and his hardened flesh bounced into view. "I think this good soldier has waited long enough." Teresa got out of the chair. "Lift up, Patrick."  


He lifted his hips so that she could slide his trunks to his knees. When he tried to kick them off the rest of the way, Teresa stopped him.  


"No. This looks much naughtier, like a real blowjob, don't you think? Maybe a bit hurried because someone will be coming to the door soon?"  


"Ah! Ah! Oh, yeah. Ohhhhhhh." Patrick breathed as Teresa mouthed and fondled every part of him she could reach.  


"Was I like this, Patrick?"  


"Huuhhng?"  


"Am I doing this when you think of me in your bed?"  


"This and about a hundred other things."  


"Do you want to come, Patrick?"  


Patrick just groaned and gasped at what her tongue was doing to the head of his dick.  


"I love you, and I want you to come."  


He grunted softly, eyes closed and head thrown back as he moved his hips in rhythm with her slowly pumping fists and soft suckling mouth.  


With a cry that sounded like her name formed by grunts of pleasure, Patrick did not hold back. Teresa found him beautiful in ecstasy.  


Wetting a cloth with warm water from the bathroom, she quickly refreshed and brought the cloth to Patrick. Then room service arrived and both of them hurried to eagerly greet the table that rolled in with their dinner. They set on it as ravenously as they had set on each other through the day.  


After their dinner, Patrick and Teresa filled the bathroom with clouds of steam as they soaped each other squeaky clean.  


Teresa insisted on washing his hands and feet, kissing and sucking his beautiful fingers, placing his broad hands on her breasts and looking at them as he fondled their soapy foam coating.  


She'd lusted after his feet long enough. She lay on the shower floor, placing first one and then the other on her stomach, massaging and cleaning every inch of them, warmed by the gentle rain from the shower head. She exclaimed on their beauty, kissed and nipped them, often handling the anklet and its few beads. She gazed between his legs at how he was formed and how lovely the juncture of his testicles and round cheeks. When she had finished soaping his bottom, including its tender opening, he finally had to sit on the floor with her, too tired to stand any longer. But as it allowed Teresa to use a free hand once in awhile to pet and stroke his male parts, it was all to the good.  


Patrick was surprised to see this side of Lisbon. Apparently she'd been studying up on feet, but it was a lot more than that. She was a true sensualist! And how lucky for him! Brought to orgasm once with all the deft play, he left the shower in a renewed state of raging excitement, Teresa refusing to satisfy him again because she wasn't through looking at him. While he threatened to bring himself off, stroking his shivering cock against her lips, he held back, breathless with anticipation of where she would take them next.  


Teresa invited him to turn down the covers and lie on the bed. To her, he looked like a very horny angel with a halo of yellow curls, spread out on the crisp white hotel sheets, his manly bits clearly ready for love. My, he was thick . . . she imagined all that length, embedded inside her, moving, working her to blessed release. When she joined him, they kissed a while. Then she said, wickedly, Patrick thought. "Maybe I should check you for sand now . . ."  


"Oh? You think you might have missed something? Well, I could use a little cleaning out, but I don't think sand is the problem." He darted his eyes to the erection that pulsed with his heartbeat.  


Teresa thought him beautifully shaped, full and proud, balls round and dense, close to his body. She reached under them, handling them gently with her fingertips, caressing them, feeling everything about them.  


Patrick fidgeted and groaned, "I think that will help, just keep doing that and the sand will just fall right out . . ."  


"Patrick?"  


"Yes?"  


"Do you trust me?"  


"Of course. We put our lives in each others' hands."  


"I mean, will you trust me with your body?"  


"I've never thought about it that way, but yes. Well, unless you got really mad . . . you're not mad, are you Teresa? You seem very cautious, like you're building up to something."  


"It's true. I am. All of this is so new for us, but we have so little time.  


Teresa took his hand and placed his fingers between her legs. "Do you feel how excited I am, Patrick?"  


Patrick wiggled his fingers and sunk them into her. "You're sopping! And hot." His fingertips traced her countours.  


"It's because I want to do something very pleasurable to your body, I want to hear you gasp and see you fall apart and know it came from me. But I'm afraid to go too far, too fast."  


Patrick felt under the spell of her eroticism and, stroking her vulva with his fingers, spoke huskily, "Anything."  


"Put your fanny in the air, Patrick."  


"What?"  


"Yes. It'll be nice. You'll see."  


Intrigued and willing to take on any adventure with this woman, Patrick turned over and did as she requested.  


"Spread your knees a little further apart, Patrick. That's it." Kneeling on the bed now, she told him how beautiful he appeared to her.  


"You're not going to tip me like a heifer, are you?"  


She ignored his question, instead petting his male parts, running her fingers where they were attached to the muscular column that led to his round, squeezable bum.  


"Are you looking at my t'ain't, Teresa?"  


"Is that what you call this part of your body, Patrick? Yes, and it's very lovely, so strong and muscular." She rose over him to kiss there with slow, fleshy smooches.  


"Oh god, that feels so good, Lisbon. I think I'm going to come!"  


"No, wait. I'll stop so you can relax a little bit. I want to do something special for you. And Patrick?  


"Yes?"  


"I only do this for VERY clean boys."  


"Oh, that's it! Teresa, I can't stop!" He grabbed himself and held on as he came, jetting semen so hard it made a zipping sound as it traveled and hit the sheets. If the head of his dick could twirl, it would have. He still had his obedient little butt in the air, but fell over as he cried out in pleasure, stroking himself into a calm place.  


Teresa reached in and hugged his waist, then kissed the still throbbing wet head of his penis. When she sat up, she fished into the robe at the end of the bed, bringing from the pocket a little bottle of lotion provided by the hotel, and a condom packet. "Okay, just stay there on your side and bring your knees a little closer to your chest. That's it." She opened the condom.  


"Teresa. What are you going to do?"  


"Something very special." Smiling at him, she leaned over and kissed his cheeks and then his mouth. She caressed his nether regions again, massaging his beautiful bottom, kissing it gently from time to time. It seemed to be very soothing to Patrick. She slipped two fingers into the condom and slathered it with lotion.  


"Uh. That's a little scary, Lisbon."  


"I don't want to nick you with a fingernail. I'm going to put my fingers in back here until I find your spot and then I'm just going to rub it, Patrick. It won't be harsh at all. Has anyone ever massaged you like that?"  


Patrick just stared at her and gave his head a quick shake. She was talking about his prostate.  


"No? It feels exquisite. I'll stop if you want me to. But I want to do this for you, to give you this much pleasure."  


"How many?"  


"What?" Teresa's voice was soft and heavy with arousal.  


"How many very clean boys have you done this for?"  


"Oh, one, that's all."  


"Were you going to do it to Mark?"  


"No. Never. I love you. I don't even know him."  


Patrick was very still for a few moments. But you loved someone this much?"  


Lowering her head, her dark hair swung as she shook her head a little. "Thought I did. I was engaged to him."  


"Greg? Oh . . . I'll never think of him the same again." Smiling, he caught Teresa's eyes and nodded his head.  


"I have to hear stop, or go ahead, Patrick."  


"Go ahead. But stop if I tell you to, Teresa!"  


"Of course. Here we go. At first it may feel a little stra—" Teresa steadied him gently with her free hand and then slipped in, quickly finding the dense rise of tissue, at first pressing and rubbing lightly, then with slightly more pressure. The pleasure she could give with this was intense and she considered it extremely special. Especially when she used her free hand to grasp and stroke the cock, like she was doing now with Patrick.  


"What are you doing? Ah! Ah! It feels like your finger is inside my dick, rubbing me. Ah! I'm gonna come! Where did you learn to do that? Who taught you that, Lisbon? Who? Ahhhhhh! Help! No! Don't stop! Ahhhhhh!" Patrick's hips jerked as he succumbed to an intense orgasm. Gasping for air, tears streamed from his eyes and he sniffled in between gasps.  


Teresa removed the covering from her fingers, rubbing his bottom some more, patting and caressing the fleshy cheeks, soothing Patrick from his intense experience. Finally, she stretched out next to him, kissing his face, cleaning the tears, loving his willingness to be vulnerable to her.  


"That was heaven, Lisbon, it really was." He was still sniffling.  


"I'm glad you think so."  


"But you can't touch my cock for the rest of the night. It's too sensitive! Don't even touch it, Teresa!"  


"I promise."  


"Don't even look at it because then you'll want to touch it!"  


"I'll try. I didn't hurt you . . . ?"  


"No! It was wonderful. Everything is just . . . too awake."  


He covered himself protectively.  


"No, I promise I won't touch. Are you sure I can't even look?" If he only knew how adorable he was in this vulnerable state. And men called women kittenish!  


"Maybe. I'll see how I feel in a minute."  


"Okay, then. I'm sure you'll be fine after some tea. How about we send for some?"  


"That would be nice."


	11. Chapter 11

After tea, Patrick had recovered his emotional equilibrium and wanted to know more about Lisbon's intense curiosity about his body. It seemed to be more than just venal.  


"You pick the most interesting places of my body to examine, Lisbon. My hands, my feet. And now my underneath. I'm intrigued."  


"It was you who made me start noticing feet, and yours are so lovely! Sturdy and white and symmetrical. Pretty toes. But, here. Look at your hands."  


Patrick held them up.  


"Your wrists are slender and your fingers long and straight, see?" Teresa traced her fingertips along the length of Patrick's fingers. "At first your hands look slender, too, but then when you hold them open . . ."  


She pushed his palms flat. "They're very wide and masculine, such a contrast to the delicate wrists, yet you move them gracefully. Sometimes I think I could watch them forever, Patrick, like white doves flying."  


Teresa looked to see if Patrick would laugh at her. He just seemed surprised and a little stunned, but pleased. "Of course I want to see them touching me! You are very beautiful in so many ways. I like the lines and curves and angles that your body makes in certain places. I love how perfectly round your ass cheeks are. They're all just sensuous to look at. Like living art or sculpture. I can't explain it. But I've looked at it for so many years . . ."  


"Ah. An artiste. I'm flattered. But I like to see my hands on you for a different reason. I like to see your skin flush, Teresa, and your nipples rise under my touch. I love the way your body rolls under my hands like a living wave, alive and warm and willing to open to me."  


"But not just yet?"  


"Soon." He sat up cross-legged then and she moved in front of him on her knees. Teresa quelled her mirth that Patrick had made a point to put on his underwear so that she would be less tempted to touch him. He still felt too 'sensitive' for that. "Maybe just my long . . . slender . . . straight . . . graceful fingers for now?"  


Teresa's cheeks colored with pleasure. Patrick extended his hand low, slipped a middle finger into her. and flattened his wide palm against the top of her sex. A warm wicked smile shaped his lips. His eyes darkened to midnight, shadows above cheeks splashed with pink. "Oh. I see. You wicked woman. You like to look because it makes you wet!"  


Teresa smiled and pushed her hips towards him. "That, too," she admitted. Lazily, he continued to stroke with his finger, sometimes deeper, sometimes at the surface skimming lightly and then deeper in again, drawing out her moisture and squeezing the delta of flesh in his hand. Teresa was so aroused already from her play with Patrick that she had no intention of delaying. She knew that Patrick would give her as many orgasms as she wanted. She braced lightly against his shoulders and began to move her hips, dragging herself along the length of his finger and forcing it deeper.  


"Shhhhhhh," Patrick said softly and gently restrained her with his other hand, the fingers splayed across her belly. "Let me, this time."  


She stilled and he resumed petting her lazily. Finally, as Teresa began to pant, feeling a climax uncoiling in her groin, he pushed and circled the tiny engorged organ faster and then ran the length of his finger against it like a bow to a violin. She shook and Patrick heard her release in rhythmic breathing as she spiraled into relaxation and collapsed into his arms. He brushed her with his palm as she lay there.  


"I loved that. Thank you."  


He leaned over and kissed her forehead and then her lips. "You're very beautiful. Especially like this, naked in my arms and satisfied. One of these days we'll have to try it missionary style. It will be very exotic."  


Teresa snorted and kissed him warmly. "Yes, it will. I can't wait."  


They put out the lights, curled up together under the covers and slept until mid-morning.  


Breakfast was an orgy in the hotel restaurant. Eggs, over medium for her, scrambled for him. Bacon and sausage. Fluffy biscuits with butter and jam. Tiny silver dollar pancakes with maple syrup. Fresh strawberries, pineapple and cantaloupe. Orange juice and lots of tea and black sweet, milky coffee. Their bellies were swollen, full and happy as they made their way back to the room. After a good toothbrushing, they tumbled back into bed to a deep satisfying nap in each others arms. Patrick wore his underwear to bed, would not spoon her and made Teresa swear not to try to touch or undress him.  


By the time they awoke, Patrick was feeling braver with his male anatomy. He had removed his briefs and was spooning into her with something hard and long.  


Teresa stretched and turned to face him. "Are you ready to use that now or do you have to use the bathroom first?"  


"You really know men, don't you?"  


She wrapped a hand lightly around him and caressed the head with her thumb. "Little brothers, remember? And I have had a few boyfriends, you know."  


"Hrumph! Where'd you learn the butt-reaming, huh?"  


When she wouldn't answer, Patrick started tickling her. "There's no way you're going to get out of telling me that!" He was merciless. Teresa was hiccupping and threatening to wet the bed.  


"Have you no control over that bladder, woman?"  


They both fell apart laughing, but she finally confessed.  


"Well, you know we had to learn how to do cavity searches in law enforcement."  


"Oh, this is starting out well! That's what you do in a cavity search?"  


"No! But you have to learn where everything is, to avoid it. And some of the little pervs will actually try to maneuver themselves into it."  


Patrick just looked at her. "Your experience with male rectal anatomy? This is like secret cop knowledge, right?"  


Teresa giggled as Patrick stared at her slack-jawed. "Yeah, I guess. But not the fun part, believe me."  


"Okay, Lisbon. We are never going to talk about this again. Got it?"  


"You don't want me ever to—?"  


"Ah! I didn't say that!"  


"Ah, yourself, then! You did like it!"  


"I said it was heaven, didn't I? But we will never again talk about how you learned it."  


She tried to keep a straight face. "Okay. Once is enough for me, too."  


"Good."  


"But it was incredibly hot to see you turn to mush!"  


"You're such a romantic, Lisbon."  


Teresa giggled, the pleasure of his humor bubbling out of her like a party.  


"I love you. And it was wonderful, you were so tender and easy with me. How could I not love anything you do?"  


"I see you're recovered now," she observed as he poked her again.  


"Better than ever! I've got energy down there I never had before."  


She smiled and caressed his cheek, then lay across his lap to snuggle in his arms.  


"And it all says Lisbon, Lisbon, Lisbon. Looking into Teresa's shining green eyes set a fire in Patrick's belly. She stroked his cheek and a smile etched his face into a hundred sun-sculpted lines radiating from the corners of his sea-colored eyes to spread across his cheeks, framing his mouth with joy. She kissed them all in a love more akin to worship, teaching her lips to remember his face this way. Tears fell from her closed eyes and dropped onto the hands that held her head so close to his.  


"Beautiful," Teresa murmured, "So beautiful." She draped her arms around his neck to kiss his lips. Patrick took control with a deep breath that sounded like he was ready to consume something juicy. And that's exactly what he did, pushing his tongue between her lips and groaning as she opened her mouth, still cradling her with one arm while the other roamed free at her breasts.  


Touching them made Patrick hungrier as he deepened their kiss and handled her nipples so fiercely it made Teresa's hips buck in pleasure and need. His hand pushed between her thighs and found her more than ready but he inserted two fingers anyway and used them with his thumb to shatter her as she cried out into his mouth. Her beauty in this simple moment nearly overwhelmed him with love. He couldn't wait another minute to join their bodies for the first time.  


While Teresa was still contracting in orgasm, Patrick shifted to hover over her and pushed her legs open wide. Using the head of his cock, he teased and dallied in the pool of moisture at her entrance. Gasping in aftershocks, she begged him to enter her. At last he did, sliding into the tight, soft box that enveloped him completely. She was still clenched from her climax.  


"You're filling me up. I hardly have room for you!"  


"You're just contracting that hard around me, Teresa. You feel perfect." Patrick began moving, his strokes getting longer and stronger until Teresa came again, pulsing around him for the first time, great waves of internal spasms that gripped him and called him to go with her. His senses reeled at the knowledge of what they were doing together and how good it felt, but he wasn't ready to let go. He decided to pull out to rest at her entrance, but her body resisted.  


Teresa felt him try to separate from her. "No! Don't leave me!"  


"Feel that, Teresa?" Patrick pulled back from her just a little and felt the tug of her clamped muscles hold him. "Your body doesn't want me go yet. And I don't want to." He arched his back and lifted his chest away to give her a better view of what she felt, moving into her and then pulling back from the fist of her core.  


"Oh, god. You're fucking me, Patrick!" Teresa looked at him, wide eyed, and he smiled at her, giving his eyebrows a wicked waggle. She watched his slow movements, barely pulling back, but pushing all the way to the bottom of her, his testicles brushing the sensitive base of her backside, her legs spread wide, a cry of pleasure escaping them both at the bottom of each stroke.  


Sensation hit him and Patrick drew a long breath through his teeth, his balls pulled completely up and screaming for release. He turned mind over to body and allowed himself to rocket into Teresa, breathing her name as he felt his entire body arch and spill into her. She threw her legs around his waist and rocked against him, reaching her own destination as he began to still.  


Patrick's last coherent thought as he poured himself into Teresa and collapsed on top of her was a wish that they could make a child some day. Teresa thought blissfully that missionary would be "their" position from now on!  


When they had rested again, Patrick sat sprawled naked in the armchair near the bed. Teresa's heart fluttered at the way the light from the window illuminated his face and body and wished she could have a picture to treasure forever.  


"You're looking at me that way, Teresa. I'll be on you again in a minute."  


"If you could just see yourself sitting naked in this light, you'd look at you, too! And who says I don't want you on me?" She was in and out of the bathroom alcove, dressing.  


"Do you?"  


"No. But now I'll know what to do when I do." She came out of the alcove in a blousy, waisted white dress and leather sandals.  


"I've never seen you in a dress, Teresa. Well, formals don't really count, a few special occasions. You're stunning! You make me want to get dressed just to walk with you and show you off."  


Teresa blushed her thanks and with a beaming smile, ran to sit in his lap and wrap her arms around him, kissing, kissing, kissing the side of his head and telling him ten ways that she loved him. When she was finished, she asked him what he wanted to do with their last evening. Her flight left at noon the next day.  


"I want to be in the water with you again. Is that okay?"  


"I threw my suit in the trash."  


"We'll get you another one on the way to the beach. And I'll get some new trunks!"  


"Okay, but simple and quick, yeh? Don't want to waste a minute that we could be in the sea!"  


Patrick chose something very similar to what he had, Lisbon another one-piece in a beautiful green that matched her eyes in the sunshine.  


Their beach was fairly crowded when they arrived, grew larger by early evening and then tapered to a handful of souls hovering over a lantern far up the beach by dusk.  


By the time they took their nighttime skinny dip, they were loaded with sand again, but Teresa was a lot more experienced in getting rid of it.  


In the water, she loved to float on her back talking to Patrick in the dark below the crush of stars, her calves hooked on Patrick's hip bones, feeling the state of his arousal like a human pressure gauge when a wave tossed her against him. Patrick leaned over her, handling her breasts like living bread dough and petting her until the scent of her musk drifted on the water's surface. It carried him over the edge and he had to make love to her.  


"What's the sand report?"  


"All clear."  


"You sure? I think we should get out my special probe to be sure."  


"Right here in the water?"  


"Especially here in the water."  


Teresa was so aroused she was ready to try anything. Pulling her head up from the water, she looked at him and said, "Show me this probe, Patrick."  


Patrick maneuvered them into a bit shallower water to show her the terrific hard-on he was sporting, laying it heavily against her and rocking it there.  


Teresa looked just once, then arched her back, treading water with her arms to keep her head afloat, and said, "Oh yes, let's try that bad boy out!"  


At her word, Patrick held her hip with one hand and used the other to guide himself into her. Walking them back a little deeper, his hand supported and guided her hips, which she could not do easily while floating. After the cool water, the heat of Teresa's depths had him thrusting immediately, setting up a significant wake of water. But he did feel some sand and stopped immediately.  


"What? Why did you stop?"  


"Just a minute. There's more sand." He pulled completely out and used his fingers to clean inside her as well, enjoying the sensuality and intimacy of caring for her body, especially when it so obviously pleased Teresa. Then he frisked himself with water just to be sure. Re-entering her was like falling into a bed of molten silk.  


Pulling her tight against him, he moved and rotated his hips, feeling everything deep inside her. Teresa moved delicately up and down, small movements that made her core tighten lusciously around him. They kept the thrusting to a minimum to avoid constantly inundating her face with water. The pleasure was mind-blowing.  


Teresa felt like a mermaid, mating in the sea. She surrendered to the sensations they created together, pressing hard and holding herself against him as the sensations of her orgasm left her gasping. Patrick lasted a little longer, continuing to move through the rolling pull of her insistent muscles, but soon he, too, cried out, grunting a soft rhythm under the stars.  


Lusciously weak, Patrick separated their bodies but grabbed her hand as they both recovered, floating on their backs, watching the pattern of stars in the velvet night sky. Its magnitude and beauty was a floating silent meditation.  


After an indeterminate time, Teresa stood up and once again began to wring her hair. Patrick joined her, pulling her into a warm embrace and a soft, tender kiss. She smelled of the sea to him and of all clean things in it.


	12. Chapter 12

Even the sky seemed to cry on the morning of their parting, huge drops of rain knocking against the window, demanding attention to its dull gray pain. Patrick slumped in his armchair, dressed and despondent in his three-piece suit, staring at his big brown shoes. His flight left late afternoon.  


Teresa moved slowly and dressed casually for her noon flight. Jeans belted low on her hips and a short top that skimmed just below her navel accented the healthy glow of her skin. She would carry a jacket slung through the straps of the overnight.  


She called his name softly but Patrick was unresponsive. Even calling him a second time did not rouse him. Teresa felt the pain in her heart, dull and pounding as the rain on the window. Neither had expected parting to be so grievous, set as far from consciousness as they could push it. Now it was here. Only a couple hours until she had to leave for the airport and join him in their difficult charade.  
Teresa straddled Patrick's legs to sit in his lap, laying her head in the crook of his neck. Almost dragging his arm, he rested it on her waist and snuggled against a cheek. It was barely a whisper, a rasping, "I love you, Teresa."  


"I love you, Patrick," she answered softly. She lifted his other hand and turned it palm upwards with her thumb and index finger.  


Patrick turned his head to watch what she was doing. Teresa's other fingers were curled to hide something. She opened her fingers and dropped it into his palm, then moved hers to slip along his rib cage over the vest. There was a little whelk seashell, about the size of a large walnut, with pale streaks of turquoise and yellow. Patrick gently closed his hand over Teresa's treasure, now his, and kissed her cheek, murmuring a low thanks. She just nodded against him.  


They fell into a light sleep, comforted by their new natural state, together, touching. Waking easily about an hour later, Patrick steadied Teresa at the hip and helped her to stand. Unwilling to remove his hand, he parted his knees, hooked a finger in Teresa's belt and drew her back in. Tugging her pants to expose a hip bone, he leaned in and kissed it lavishly, rimmed his finger to the front and kissed the top of her pubic bone with the same care. Teresa watched him as her heart raced and every cell in her body screamed at her to grab his hand and run far, far away. Leave it all and run. Tears streamed down her face, mirrored by Patrick's when he pulled away.  


"Our first honeymoon," he said hoarsely. He stood then, drawing her into a full embrace. When they let go neither looked at the other but gathered their things and quietly left the room together, Patrick first tucking his shell into a vest pocket.  


Leaving the beach for the last time had been hard. Leaving their unholy mess of a big bed love nest with the spoiled white sheets was mournful. Separating at the airport, excruciating. Going back to Sacramento CBI and picking up the Red John case again was numbing. Knowing that they would have to stay apart and act as if nothing happened, nothing was between them, was a farce. Staying apart would be impossible. They were gambling with their lives. But better well-loved together than suffering a lie of deprivation apart.


End file.
